ONE day, in the year 1094, when the conquest of England by the Normans had inspired feudal warriors with a desire for adventurous expeditions, a little man, mounted on a mule, might have been observed to ascend the heights of Emmaus, and come in sight of Jerusalem. The appearance of the rider was most eccentric; indeed, the woollen mantle gathered round his person, the thick cord, that girded his waist, the monk's hood thrown over his head, and the sandals on his feet, formed a costume so grotesque as to attract notice wherever he appeared. But the rider, being Peter the Hermit, was probably in no mood to notice criticism; for his soul must have glowed with ardor as lie ambled onwards to the Holy City.
Jerusalem could no longer have been described as the most glorious city of tne East. All the grandeur by which she was distinguished, when peace was within her walls, and prosperity within her palaces, had departed. Formed of mosques, and churches, and square houses, surmounted by flat terraces, situated on four hills, encircled by a strong wall which undulated with the uneven ground, and surrounded by sterile plains and barren mountains, where a few thorns and olives struggled into growth, and where a solitary palm tree, here and there, stood erect, the city presented an aspect suggestive of mournful reflections. But the eye of such a man as the Hermit met everywhere with objects to excite his religious enthusiasm. His fervor was roused to the highest pitch when he gazed with entranced eye on Zion and Olivet, and on Moriah, where the site of the Temple was occupied by Omar's mosque, and on Calvary, where the church of the Resurrection stood as a monument of Constantine's piety.
At Jerusalem Peter took up his residence under the roof of a Latin Christian, and soon drew his host into interesting conversation. The recital of all the woes endured by Christians in the Holy City made the Hermit's blood boil. While listening to an account of the oppressions and indignities of which they were the victims, he glowed with indignation, and occupied himself perpetually with meditating schemes for their relief.
At length, one day, when the Hermit had, with a crowd of pilgrims ascended Mount Calvary, and prostrated himself at the Holy Sepulchre, a celestial voice seemed to sound in his ear. "Peter," it said, "arise! Hasten to proclaim the tribulation to my people. For it is time that my servants should be aided, and that the holy places should be freed!" The enthusiast, after listening to these words entertained no doubt that he was designed by Heaven to deliver Jerusalem. Rising from the ground he repaired to the house of the Patriarch.
The Patriarchate of Jerusalem, which had been created in 457, was not, in 1094, a dignity which the worldly or luxurious were likely to covet. Indeed, it seems to have brought little with it but persecution and peril. Simeon, who now held the office was a man advanced in life, with white hair and a most venerable figure. But neither his white head nor his yenerable figure availed to save him from injury and insult. He bewailed the condition of the Holy City, and wept over the woes of the faithful.
"But can no remedy be devised?" asked Peter, after the Patriarch had bewailed the unhappy plight of his people; "can no termination to such calamities be expected?"
"Most faithful of Christians," answered Simeon, "it is plain that our sins have shut us out from the mercy of God, and that no power on earth can assist us."
"Yes," cried Peter, with glistening eye, "there is a power. The warriors of the West will ere long set Jerusalem free."
"Doubtless," said the Patriarch, with pious resignation, "when the measure of our afflictions shall be full, God may touch the hearts of princes, and send them to our succor."
"If the people of Europe had evidence of your miseries," said Peter, excitedly, "they would come to the rescue of the Holy Sepulchre. Write, therefore, to the Pope, and to the Latin Christians, and affix your seal to the epistle. I will, as a penance for my sins, travel through the West, and urge them to save you from longer degradation."
After this conversation, the Patriarch and the Hermit shed tears of joy at the idea of deliverance. Though probably not quite so sanguine as his coadjutor, Simeon addressed letters to the Pope; and Peter, having promised to rouse Christendom to arms, left Jerusalem to return to Europe.
Having made his way to Rome, Peter craved an audience of the Pope. A native of France, with the title of Urban the Second, then figured as vicar of Christ. The idea of a war for the deliverance of Jerusalem was neither new nor unpleasing to this personage; for the great Hildebrand had thought of such an expedition as likely to contribute to the Papal power; and Urban, a disciple of Hildebrand, was not blind to its advantages. On being admitted to Urban's presence, therefore, Peter had the gratification of finding that his project was regarded with favor. In every respect the interview between the Hermit and the Pope appears to have been most satisfactory. Urban treating Peter as a prophet, commissioned him to rouse the warriors of Europe; and the Hermit, mounting his mule, fared forth to preach a holy war and promise Heaven to all who should take part in the enterprise.
Never was enthusiast more successful in convincing mankind of the grandeur of his idea. Crossing the Alps, and penetrating into France, Peter electrified castle and city, town and hamlet with his eloquence. All France was soon in a blaze, and Frank lord and Gaulish slave manifested equal ardor. Sometimes he preached in a church, sometimes at the market-cross, and sometimes under a tree by the wayside. But wherever he appeared, people revered him as a saint, crowded around him, followed his footsteps, and deemed themselves happy if they could touch the hem of his mantle, or pluck a hair from the mane of his mule. Ere long his fame crossed the Channel, and the minds of victor Norman and vanquished Saxon were alike fired with zeal. All hailed the Hermit as "the man of God," and expressed their eagerness to be led against the enemies of their religion.
While Peter was riding over Europe and preaching a holy war, the Pope did not neglect the grand project to which he had given his countenance. At this very time, when Peter was rousing Christendom to arm for the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre, ambassadors reached Rome to intimate the danger which existed of Constantinople falling into the hands of the Moslem. In fact the Greeks no longer possessed the courage to fight their own battles, and the Emperor Alexis Corn-menus appealed for aid to the Pope and the Princes of Europe. To the Pope, Alexis pointed out the danger, to which Christianity would be exposed, in the event of infidels capturing Constantinople; to the Princes of the West, he promised treasures as the reward of their services, and hinted that the love of the Greek women, whose charms he described in glowing terms, would repay their country's champions.
After seriously musing over the project of Peter, and considering the message of Alexis, Urban convoked a council at Placentia, and there, at the Pope's summons, hundreds of prelates, thousands of ecclesiastics, and tens of thousands of laymen assembled. The gathering was so numerous that the council was held in a plain outside the city; and after the ambassadors of Alexis had implored the aid of the warriors of the West, Urban pointed out the duty and the necessity of saving Constantinople and Jerusalem. Nevertheless, the Council after occupying days with other matters, separated without coming to any decision as to a holy war.
No sooner, however, did the Council of Placentia break up, than Urban convoked a Council at Clermont. At that place three hundred bishops and a multitude of princes and nobles presented themselves. It was winter, the season was severe, and the ground was covered with snow. Nevertheless the Pope, braving cold and fatigue, crossed the Alps to preside, and found Clermont like a vast camp. The city was crowded with princes, prelates, and ambassadors; every town and village in the neighborhood was thronged; and, cold as was the season, multitudes were lodged beneath pavilions and tents in the meadows and the fields.
For several days the Council of Clermont was occupied with questions in which few of those assembled took interest; and the majority who thought of nothing but an expedition to Palestine, manifested impatience. At length, on the tenth day, the Council held a sitting in the great square of the city: and the Pope, accompanied by Peter the Hermit, and attended by cardinals, ascended a throne, and described in pathetic language, the desolation of the Holy Places.
"Christian warriors," said Urban, addressing the assembled multitude, "rejoice for you, who without ceasing seek vain pretexts for war, have to-day found true ones. You are not now called to avenge the injuries of men, but injuries offered to God; and it is not
war a town or castle that will reward your valor, but the wealth of Asia, and a land flowing with milk and hooey. If you triumph over your foes, the kingdoms of the East will be your heritage. If you are conquered, you will have the glory of dying where Christ died. This is the time to prove that you are intimated by a true courage, and to expiate so many violences committed in the bosom of peace. When Christ summons you to his defence, let no base affections detain you at home -- listen to nothing but the groans of Jerusalem, and remember that the Lord has said -- 'He that will not take up his cross and follow me, it unworthy of me.'"
The speech of the Pope was at first listened to in solemn silence. Gradually, however, as he proceeded, sobs broke from the crowd. Noticing this, and skilfully picturing the insolence of the enemies of Christ, Urban asked the warriors of the West to drive out the handmaid and her children, and significantly reminded them that if the infidels were not encountered in Asia, they would yet accomplish the conquest of Europe.
"Gird your swords to your thighs, ye men of might," exclaimed the Pontiff in conclusion; "it is our part to pray, and it is yours to fight -- ours (with Moses) to hold up unwearied hands; yours to stretch forth the sword against the children of Amalek."
"God wills it! It is the will of God!" cried the assembled Christians, rising in a mass as Urban paused.
"Yes," added the Pope, "without doubt it is the will of God! Go, then, brave warriors of the Cross, and let the shout of 'God wills it!' be your war-cry in the holy enterprise."
Immediately after this scene had been enacted, Urban, by a gesture, intimated his wish for silence; and while the crowd bent their knees, one of the cardinals pronounced a form of confession. Adhemar, Bishop of Puy, then stepping forward, asked to be allowed to enter into "the way of God," and received from the Pope one of the red crosses which had been consecrated for the ceremony. Many knights and barons, following the bishop's example, received the sacred badge, and swore to avenge the cause of Christ. All who took the oath, stitched the red cross of silk or cloth on the right shoulder of the mantle. After this they were termed "bearers of the cross," and the holy war, on which they had vowed to enter, was called a Crusade.
This ceremony over, the Pope promised to all who assumed the cross, entire remission of sins: and the Crusaders appointed a rendezvous for the following spring. The Council of Clermont was then dissolved; and while the knights and barons separated to prepare for their expedition, the Pope went on his way rejoicing in the prospect of uniting the nations of Christendom against the enemies of Christ.
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From John G. Edgar
The Crusades and the Crusaders, 1860
